butterfly
by Xiao Leonhart
Summary: Short fic, first in a trilogy, set in Wutai a few years after the game. A young man's trial-by-fire initiation into the Wutainese Yakuza. To say who else is in it would be to ruin the surprise. *finished*


**butterfly**

**xiao leonhart **

_"Ever squashed a bug?"_

_"Yeah, but-"_

_"Ever eaten a steak?"_

_"Well, yeah. . ."_

_"Then you're already a murderer. Worse, even. Just by being thoughtless or careless or even apathetic, you've already killed something harmless and innocent. If you can't take it, you may as well point that gun at your pretty head right now and pull the trigger. There's no room for innocence here."_

Everyone looked at him oddly from the moment he entered the smoke-filled back room- so young, so obviously just a kid. He tried to calculate the right distance. Too close and he'd be a joke, a baby hiding behind his older brother. Not too far away, though, he wanted that definite connection between himself and Takashi. I'm his brother. Push me around and answer to him.

Already there was a lull in the conversation, the sense of dark eyes behind dark shades looking him over. He could almost hear the brush of fabric or the creak of leather as hands moved lightly into pockets or slid across holsters, waiting. He got the feeling that if he made a sudden move now, he'd have thirty rounds between his eyes before he could blink. Beside him, Takashi brushed a strand of hair out of his face, the skull and crossbones symbol on his ring winking as it caught the dim light. Jien felt the circle of cold metal around his own finger and touched it reassuringly. It felt unnatural, somehow. He wasn't used to it yet.

"This is Jien. He's with us now."

Amazing. Only a few words and the atmosphere changed. Their leader's little brother, not a threat. And although nobody in this room was ever completely off their guard, he was getting casual nods and a few smiles. If Takashi said he was in, he was.

Behind him Takashi was rattling off introductions- tall, hard-faced men and a few women, mostly Wutainese. They all looked vaguely similar in some way, as if they were all related, but he doubted it. Probably just the look of the street. Scars and burns and set jaws. And while they smiled and laughed, their eyes remained cold and calculating as if looking at him down a gun scope rather than from behind a pair of shades. None of them had a face you would trust. None of them would trust you anyway.

"This is Hiroshi and Leon, and she's Ella. . ."

Jien blinked.

Ella was. . . different. He couldn't say exactly why. Maybe because she wasn't Wutainese. Her short, slightly spiked blonde hair stood out, true, but among the occasional red or blue or even orange it didn't look that unusual. She had piercing light honey-brown eyes, striking against tanned but still relatively pale skin, and wore a faded blue tank top, the sleeves of which were so frayed they looked fringed. Black cargo pants over boots. None of which set her apart from the others in any way. Maybe there was something familiar about her? Whatever it was, he couldn't place it.

The guy his brother had called Leon, with a freshly-stitched gash at his hairline, indicated Jien with a condescending wave of his hand. "Is the kid coming with us tonight?"

Jien saw Takashi nod, privately enjoying the brief look of surprise that passed over the other man's features and his vain attempts to hide it. Ella overheard and threw him a lazy smile as she lit a cigarette.

When Leon spoke again he sounded hesitant. Understandable, since he was openly questioning the judgement of one of the most infamous men in Wutai.

"Er. . . the kid knows what he's doing, right?"

"The name's Jien," Jien said suddenly, surprising even himself.

"Heh. . . yeah. Sure thing, Jien."

Leon shrugged and looked away, turning his attention to another man and continuing their conversation. Jien grinned to himself. He could do this, he'd make his brother proud. He'd get himself a position in their ranks, a place at their table, he'd earn their respect and admiration. Nobody was going to call him "kid".

Takashi looked down at him. Well, he wasn't as tall as his brother yet. "You remember what I said." 

It wasn't a question. "Yeah, I do." He felt something more was required of him. "I won't let you down."

(~*~)

_"Give me a break. You've been on my back all day. So I made a mistake, so what? Nobody's perfect."_

_"Watch it, kid."_

_"Whatever."_

_"Next time it could matter, it could mean life or death. You were just lucky."_

_"You reckon I'm lucky, do you? You reckon you're lucky, in a job like this?"_

(~*~)__

They'd been driving for some time, and Jien was getting tense, impatient. He had a gun strapped to his hip, and he knew how to use it, he could probably out-shoot half the guys here. He drummed his fingers against his leg, willing the car faster.

"Say, kid."

Ella. "My name's Jien. Not 'kid'."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"You're still a kid."

"I don't see why. I don't shoot like a kid. I don't act like a kid. Why am I a kid?"

"Because you're new, and young. Younger than us, anyway." She smiled again, that beautiful lazy smile. "And you're jumpy as a cat. It's funny. Chill out."

"I'm not jumpy."

"Just wanna go out there and kill some Angels, is that it?"

What the hell. Jien nodded.

She laughed. "Just like your brother. You don't care, do you?"

"Care about what?"

"Being a murderer."

Jien blinked. He didn't want to let himself think of it like that. The Red Angels were the enemy, cardboard cut-outs marked "bad guy". He'd seen a lot, been through a lot when he accidentally got caught up in some of Takashi's business. He'd learned to hate them, to fear them, to feel savage pleasure at their defeats, to wish fervently for their destruction. To feel an anger he interpreted as bloodlust.

He didn't want to have to answer her question, so he turned it back on her. "You already are. Do you care?"

"No, I guess not."

"Then why should I?"

She was silent, and Jien felt oddly pleased to have scored a point. When she spoke again it was with an odd far-away smile on her face, as if she was describing an event on the distant horizon.

"I once had this discussion with someone else. D'you know what he said?"

Obviously Jien did not, but it was a rhetorical question.

"Ever squashed a bug?"

Jien shrugged. "Yeah, of course, but-"

"Ever eaten a steak?"

"Yeah. . ."

"Then, according to this guy, you're already a murderer. Just by being thoughtless or careless or even apathetic, you've already killed something harmless and innocent. Something with as much right to live as you have, or me, or one of the Angels. Maybe more, since this bug never harmed anyone. It just crawled around, ya know, and ate plants."

It was Jien's turn to stay silent. For some reason her logic chilled him. He liked to assume he had a bigger place in the grand scheme of things than an ant or a beetle.

"Maybe some day, it'll turn into a butterfly. It'll open its wings and flutter around, and spend the rest of its life flying around in the sun. Maybe some kid'll see it, and be happy for the rest of the day, just because of that. But you'll never know, because you killed it. So if you can't take that, go home. If you really don't care. . . then you belong here, don't you?"

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

(~*~)

About half an hour later, Jien was charged with adrenaline. The gang stood or sat hidden in the shadows of an old warehouse, the more experienced ones blending with the darkness as if part of it. He stood against the back wall, not in the most dangerous position, but not covered enough to feel in any way secure. His hand rested on the stock of his gun, drawing a sense of power from its weight, the rough feel of the grip under his fingers.

"They'll be here soon," Takashi murmured, startling him. Jien nodded in acknowledgement and went back to listening, watching the shadows. After a while, though, the tension started wearing on him, and he turned back to talk to Takashi again.

"What'd you do, make an appointment with them?"

The older man grinned. "They're here to pick up some weapons from a "contact" of theirs. He sold out on them, told us about it. They all want to show up here, to get first pick of the good stuff. But we bought the weapons and the info off him, so everyone goes home happy."

"Except the Angels."

"Yeah, except them." He laughed, a sound with absolutely no humour in it, and disappeared back into the darkness.

After another twenty or so minutes there was still no sign of the Red Angels. By this time Jien wasn't feeling nearly so nervous. The whole thing had taken on a sense of unreality, like a video game. He felt like he was in a dream, like anything that happened here wouldn't be permanent. He could always pause it, or turn it off and walk away. . . and if he lost a life, hey, he could start over. It was a dangerous attitude, but it worked for him.

The distant sound of engines sounded again, only they didn't stay distant for long. They drew gradually closer, until the flashes of headlights and even the murmur of voices were detectable from his hiding place. Jien felt his lips drawing back in a smile. Maybe he really did belong here.

Takashi tapped him on the shoulder and pointed forward. Jien felt confused for a moment, then realised. They would attack before the Angels even got off their bikes, or had a chance to prepare for any kind of battle. Those that did fight back would be out in the open, while the Lawmakers remained in the warehouse. Not the most honourable way to fight, but then, neither was an ambush. And it wasn't like anyone really cared.

There was another silence, seeming to stretch out for hours although it was probably only a few seconds. Then there was a burst of fire from the group of Lawmakers to Jien's left, and cries from the Angels. Jien raised his gun, scarcely needing to aim at a young blond woman before pulling the trigger, feeling the familiar kickback. She fell backwards, over her bike, and that was it. Simple. Ella was right, he didn't care.

A few Angels had had the sense to run for cover, but none of the Lawmakers were even scratched. Jien lined up on a young red-haired guy, but couldn't quite get a clean shot at him. Looked like the guy was pulling out his PHS, probably to call for backup.

But it didn't look much like a PHS. . .

Suddenly he _knew_, clear as if he'd had the thought spoken into his mind. Clear as a bell. Clear as a bullet. Clear and bright as a little, blinking red light, dazzling in the complete darkness of the warehouse.

"Takashi! Bomb!"

Jien started running, driven by blind instinct, and saw several others following him. He thought one of them was Ella. He thought one of them was Takashi. He didn't know. It was too dark, too blurry. Moving shadows and cries of panic, people disoriented and too slow to react. Jien just ran. He reached the door, saw open space for the next hundred metres, felt bullets whizzing by his head. Still he ran, never once daring to look around or back. And then from behind him came a roar of sound and heat, a huge blooming flower of flame and crack of breaking timbers, a storm of flying shattered glass and debris, and a vicious wind that knocked him off his feet. Shock, fear, pain, all swallowed whole by deep dark silence.

(~*~)

What remained of the building was charred and twisted. Around the edges of the blast radius, the flames still burned orange and cherry-red, shifting in the light breeze and casting dancing shadows over rubble, wreckage and bodies of people no-one would miss.

Through the desolation, Ella walked.

_"It's just a run around the block. The Cetra's in the temple, alone. She's probably unarmed. Even if she's not, she's one little girl. Calm down."_

_"I just got a bad feeling, that's all."_

_"You know your problem, Elena, you worry too much. Just wait till you've been here a while, you'll learn how things are."_

"I'm not a total innocent, Tseng," Ella said, mildly irritated. She coughed, and wiped bright blood from her lips with the back of her hand. "You always act like you have to protect me. If I was really that clueless, how do you think I got this job?"

_"Elena, you talk too much, too."_

She sighed, then gasped as her breath caught in her throat, spraying more blood onto her hand. Disorientated, she swayed on her feet, tripping over a block of rubble and falling to her knees.

"I'm not weak, you know. I'm not. . ."

_"You're all right, kid, sometimes."_

_"That's reassuring."_

_"I mean it."_

_"Well- I'm not a kid."_

_"Compared to me, you are."_

_"I'm not that much younger than you."_

_"Not in years, maybe. . ."_

A shard of broken glass lying on the ground cut into the palm of her hand. Ella stared at the fresh wound with interest, not flinching as the pain hit a few seconds later. It was nothing, it didn't matter. The two bullet holes in her chest didn't matter. None of it mattered. She didn't matter. What use was she, if she lived or died? No-one would notice or care. Hers was just another inconsequential life, thrown away for a cause no-one remembered or understood. Just another pretty, fragile, meaningless thing. Just another butterfly.

"You never. . . respected me. Sure, you'd talk down to me, give me lessons, you even asked me out-" She coughed again, each breath strained and short, the smoke choking her. "But I was still the kid. The rookie. Well, Tseng, I heard about your first mission, and you screwed up, you screwed up bad. Almost got everyone killed. You were in my position once, but you'd never admit to it. . ."

Still kneeling, supporting herself with her hands, she felt tired. Her head felt unbearably heavy and her arms shook under the slight strain. Just to black out, to end it all, that would be so easy. She ached for release.

"Couldn't you see how I admired you, Tseng?" she whispered, seeking solace in the wraiths of smoke and flame-flickering shadows. "How I trusted you? How I. . ."

One of her arms buckled and she fell.

". . . how I loved you. . ."

_"Elena, don't act so weak."_

"I'm not weak. . ."

_"You talk too much."_

"Leave me alone. . ."

_"Ever squashed a bug?"_

She coughed again, blood and ash burning her lungs, but this time she couldn't catch her breath. The smoke was obscuring her vision. At least she thought it was the smoke. Her eyes threatened to close and she fought the darkness, fought it until she lost the strength. Raged against it until the will to fight deserted her, and she was alone in the dark.

(~*~)

Eyes wide, Jien stumbled through the wreckage, shuddering as his foot brushed against the charred remains of a man's face. He couldn't see Takashi, or Leon, or anyone. The pain from the gash across his forehead let him know he was alive, although he would prefer anything else. Better to have died in the blast than to be standing here in Hell, everyone he knew lying dead around him. . .

Who was that. . .?

Ella?

She wasn't burnt, although she lay awkwardly with her head resting on a piece of jagged stone. Even from this distance he could see the dark blood against her pale clothes and skin, and knew that if she was alive, she was in bad shape. Still dazed, Jien picked his way through the rubble until he was by her side.

Her eyes were closed, her face twisted in pain, and her face blackened and blood-streaked, but she still breathed, however shallowly. Not knowing what to do, he shook her shoulder gently. Her skin was cool beneath his touch. Amazingly enough, she stirred, and Jien felt a surge of hope. He wasn't on his own, not completely.

Her eyes opened, and she seemed to be looking up at him, but also past him and through him, as if it wasn't his face she saw. She tried to speak, but coughed instead, more blood trickling from her mouth.

"Ella-"

He felt a touch on his arm, and took her hand, not really understanding. Again her eyes flickered open, focused on another face which was there for her alone. Whatever it was she saw, it made her smile, and her hand tightened on his.

"Tseng. . ."

Her eyes slid closed, and the quiet sound of her laboured breathing ceased.

(~*~)

Everyone looked at him oddly from the moment he entered the smoke-filled back room- so young, so obviously just a kid. Toshi tried to calculate the right distance. Too close and he'd be a joke, a baby hiding behind Seth. Not too far away, though, he wanted that definite connection between himself and the gunman. He looks after me. Push me around and answer to him.

Already there was a lull in the conversation, the sense of dark eyes behind dark shades looking him over. He could almost hear the brush of fabric or the creak of leather as hands moved lightly into pockets or slid across holsters, waiting. He got the feeling that if he made a sudden move now, he'd have thirty rounds between his eyes before he could blink.

In the centre of the room stood a tall, well-built man Toshi would place at around thirty, a long scar running across his forehead. He looked up sharply when Seth entered, as did several others around the room. Seth spoke up. "This is Toshi. He's with us now."

The man nodded, and the atmosphere changed. And although nobody in this room was ever completely off their guard, he was getting casual nods and a few smiles. If this guy said he was in, he was.

Seth nudged him. "This is Jien. You'll answer to him now, okay?"

Jien approached him, and looked him over. Toshi met his gaze coolly, not blinking, and Jien smiled. There was something else in his expression, too, a hint of. . . sadness? Regret? Pity?

The gang leader clapped a hand down on Toshi's shoulder, and he drew himself up to his full height. Which, compared with this man, suddenly seemed pitifully small.

Jien gave him that odd look again.

"Ever squashed a bug, kid?"

_AN: Heh. . . I dunno, I feel Elena's often portrayed as a whiny wimp, but I figured, she made it into the Turks didn't she?. . . Well, back to Resonances and Vincent! Thanks to Jei Sasuki for the inspiration, although he didn't know it at the time he was being very helpful ;^_^ More fanfics coming soon, now I've got my lazy ass in gear again. . . Oh yeah, r+r pleeeze! -Xiao_


End file.
